


Into the Light May You Fall

by pretendagain



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Spoilers, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretendagain/pseuds/pretendagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto is injured while the team tries to capture an alien. There are unexpected consequences. Blatant hurt/comfort. Wingfic. No spoilers. Warning for blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Light May You Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood.
> 
> Warning: Some might find the descriptions of injuries disturbing. There's a fair amount of blood, etc. I don't think it's anything too awful, but if that kind of thing bothers you, stop now.

They'd been stalking the creature across the city for hours now. Just when they thought they had it cornered, it would rise up, screeching and flapping its wings, only to escape again, high above the landscape.

Jack and Owen ran after it, tranquilizer guns drawn, as Tosh tracked it on her portable computer. Gwen and Ianto were currently acting as bait, Ianto holding out a partially unwrapped chocolate bar as Gwen darted ahead of him, calling out to the flying monster.

It was alien. That much was clear. And though it resembled some kind of pteranodon, and had the same webbed wings and sharp beak, there were key differences as well. It's eyes glowed a shimmering green and sleek, gray feathers swept across its back, spreading out to the tips of each wing. It also had a long, spiked tail that writhed behind it as it flew, helping it make sharp turns and quick maneuvers.

“It's right behind us!” Gwen called out as she sprinted towards the SUV. Tosh was standing there, eyes wide, the glow of her monitor illuminating a shocked expression on her face. Things weren't going exactly to plan. They had intended to drive the creature in the opposite direction, where Owen was waiting with the imprisonment device, but it seemed the alien had other ideas.

Ianto glanced backwards as he bounded towards Tosh and Gwen, seeing the creature starting to dip towards them, afraid he'd be too late to stop it.

“Jack! We need some help over here!” he called out, breathless as the monster screeched just over his head. He felt the swift breeze of its wake pass over him just as the creature started to dive towards the SUV.

He leapt in front of Tosh and Gwen, pushing them out of the way, as the creature seemed to hover for a moment, lifted its tail and shot several sharp spikes straight at them. Ianto felt the sting in his shoulder and back as the spikes hit their mark and he wrapped his arms around his teammates, protecting them from further attack.

The alien was still screeching, a haunted pained kind of sound, and Ianto heard Jack yelling something as he came closer.

“Owen! Now!”

There was a flash of light and the whirring sound of the portable prison cell device being deployed and then a thud as Jack shot the creature with his tranquilizer gun and it fell to the ground. It thrashed for a few moments, but eventually lost consciousness and lay still on the asphalt.

Ianto pulled himself away from Gwen and Tosh a little sheepishly, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Are you alright?” he said, still trying to catch his breath.

Tosh frowned at her monitoring device, now broken into several pieces on the ground before her, but she nodded, grateful. “I'm fine. Thanks, Ianto.”

Ianto turned to Gwen. She was pulling herself to her feet, brushing the dust off her slacks, but she was grinning. “Well, that was exciting! You were quite the hero, Ianto.”

Ianto started to shrug, but found the pain in his shoulder was getting worse. He groaned at the effort and slumped forward, his hands scraping against the cold asphalt. He blinked at the scene before him, his vision wavering.

“Ianto!” Tosh called out, leaning closer, “Are you alright?”

Ianto wanted to say yes, but the pain in his shoulder was building and starting to burn. He found he couldn't draw in a deep breath. He clenched his fist and fell forward, rolling onto his side as a wave of dizziness washed over him. There were spots in front of his eyes as he squinted up at Tosh and Gwen, peering down at him with concern.

“Ianto's hurt!” Gwen yelled and moments later, Ianto heard the clatter of footsteps as Jack and Owen joined them.

Jack knelt down beside him and reached out to clasp his shoulder. Ianto bit back a gasp at the sensation and Jack quickly pulled away.

“What happened?” Jack asked, his voice all raw tension and fear. Distantly, Ianto wondered what could possibly scare Jack. He'd never known the other man to fear anything at all.

“That creature threw off some kind of spike. I think it hit Ianto,” Tosh said.

Jack lifted Ianto slowly, being careful not to touch the dark spots on his suit jacket he now suspected were blood. He leaned Ianto against his chest, leaning forward, as Owen knelt nearby to examine the wounds.

“We should get his jacket off,” Owen said tersely.

Ianto wanted to protest, but he was too weak to get the words out. Instead, he moaned against Jack's chest and closed his eyes. He felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck and something warmer and wetter soaking through his shirt. He gasped as Owen and Jack tugged at his suit jacket, removing it as quickly as they could without hurting him further.

Two growing spots of crimson blood blossomed underneath, one near the curve of his left shoulder, the other a few inches lower, midway down his back. Two sharp, glistening spikes protruded from the spots, deeply embedded in his skin.

Tosh glanced warily over at the creature a few feet away. Jack followed her gaze and gave her a tight nod. “Tosh, you and Owen get Ianto back to the Hub to get medical treatment. Gwen and I will sort out the creature.”

Ianto whimpered in Jack's arms, curling his fingers around the edges of Jack's coat. He didn't want the other man to leave him now, to pain and uncertainty.

Jack pulled away and eased Ianto down onto the ground. Ianto focused on a spot of ground just in front of him, a dappled area of black and gray stone, as he tried to breathe through the pain and dizziness.

He got lost within it for a while, only distantly aware of someone screaming, and didn't come back to himself until much later, to find his head resting in Tosh's lap, her hands in his hair, as the SUV sped on towards the Hub. She was talking to him, but he couldn't hang on to the words.

Ianto found himself kind of floating above the pain now and he wondered if Owen had given him something to help. The pain was still present, flaring in his back and shoulder, but it was distant and somehow removed from his present thoughts. Instead, he found himself wondering about his suit jacket and whether it could be repaired. Blood stains were one thing, but holes would be more difficult. He could try to patch it, but given the pinstripe pattern, that might be difficult.

He groaned as the SUV hit a particularly disruptive bump and he swallowed hard fighting back nausea. Tosh ran her fingers through his bangs and smiled down at him, an expression that looked difficult to maintain.

“We're almost there, Ianto. Just hang in there,” she said.

He nodded, wanting her to know he understood and he saw something relax in her expression, just a tiny bit.

Owen called out from the front seat. “How's his breathing, Tosh?”

“A little better,” Tosh said, looking up to meet Owen's gaze in the rear-view mirror, “but it's still too fast.”

Ianto felt his heart stutter in his chest and his eyes slide closed, unwillingly. He wanted to stay awake, for Tosh, and for Jack, but he couldn't hold on. He felt the edges of the world melt away, into darkness, as he heard Tosh calling out his name, desperately.

“Ianto! Stay with us, Ianto! Ianto!”

*** 

Much later, Ianto woke slowly, to the familiar surroundings of the medical bay at the Hub. He heard the soft, constant beeping of a nearby monitor and took in an experimental deep breath as he slowly opened his eyes. He felt groggy and a little dizzy, but the pain had faded to only a dull ache. He flexed his fingertips warily, but found everything in working order. It wasn't until he shifted a little, where he lay, on his right side, hoping to pull himself into a more dignified position, that he felt a sharp pain across his back and through his left shoulder. It was enough to leave him breathless for a moment, but it faded quickly once he stilled again.

He blinked slowly as a figure stepped in front of him. It took a long moment for the blurred shape to coalesce into someone familiar as his eyes focused. 

“Owen,” he said softly, his voice cracking, only just above a whisper. He winced a little at the sound. He guessed the screaming must not all have been in his imagination. He hoped he hadn't embarrassed himself too much.

Owen gave him a quirk of a smile, a little bit of self-satisfied annoyance just beneath it, but Ianto knew the other man well enough by now to wonder if it was all for show. “About time, mate. I was starting to think you were enjoying your nap a little too much.”

Ianto coughed softly and closed his eyes again as another wave of dizziness passed over him. The next thing he knew, Owen was holding a straw to his lips, and he sipped the cold water gratefully.

“Drink this, Ianto. It will help. Go slowly though.”

Ianto drank for several long moments until Owen pulled the straw away. Ianto took a deep breath afterward and let it out shakily. He had so many questions, but he didn't know where to begin.

“Wh-where's Jack?” Ianto asked.

Owen smirked. “Paperwork, I think. You'd be surprised how many forms are involved when a team member becomes a human pin cushion on a mission.”

Ianto bit back a small smile. Actually, he knew exactly how many forms were involved and just where to file them when they were finished. He also knew Jack generally avoided paperwork at all costs. He didn't know what to make of that. Either his injuries were so mild Jack wasn't worried at all or they were much more severe than he'd thought and Jack was doing paperwork to distract himself. Neither option was particularly gratifying.

Owen snapped his fingers in front of Ianto and frowned at him. Ianto must have missed a follow-up question. “Oi, I said, how are you feeling?”

Ianto took in another slow breath, trying to assess things. He shifted his shoulders a little and gasped as the pain blossomed again.

“Stop that, Ianto. You'll pull your stitches. Just stay still.”

Ianto relaxed again and resigned himself to this rather awkward position for the time being. He didn't much like that he couldn't see anything beyond the metal storage cabinets on the far wall, the IV tube in his hand, and Owen, but he supposed he was stuck like this for a while longer.

“Stitches?” he asked, quietly.

Owen nodded and crossed his arms in front of him. “Just a few. The spikes weren't very big, really. Just sharp.”

“Hm,” Ianto said in response. He still felt disconnected, sort of like he was drifting through layers of thoughts without being able to hold on to any of them for too long. “Did you give me something?”

Owen grinned, a toothy smile. “Oh, did I,” he said, chuckling softly, “You were in a lot of pain for a while. I started with morphine but had to move up to something stronger when you kept screaming.”

Ianto swallowed hard and shifted his head atop the pillow, trying hard not to move his back or shoulders as he did so. It wasn't easy, but he managed. “Dizzy.” Ianto said, having a harder time than he would have expected forming the word.

Owen frowned and pressed a hand to Ianto's forehead, noting with concern that the younger man was sweating again. He wondered not for the first time if there'd been some kind of poison in the alien spikes, but scan after scan had been unable to identify anything.

Ianto's eyes fluttered closed and Owen called out to him. “Ianto! Wait, I need you to answer a few more questions.”

When the other man didn't respond, Owen reached out and shook him slightly, sorry to have to cause him pain, but he had a job to do. Ianto gasped and his eyes shot open again. As the pain faded, he glared up at Owen, looking only mildly ridiculous. Owen would have to tease him about it later, when this was all behind them.

“What?” Ianto said.

“When did the dizziness start, Ianto? I need to know if it's from the drugs or from something else.”

Ianto thought back, but he was having a hard time deciding. Had he been dizzy before the SUV? He couldn't remember. Yes, he thought so. 

“Just after,” he answered, a little uncertainly.

“Just after you were injured?” Owen persisted.

“Yeah,” Ianto said, and then his eyes slipped closed again and he fell back into the darkness.

*** 

The next time Ianto woke, everything seemed much clearer. He expected the heavy duty pain medicines Owen had dosed him with had finally left his system. He confirmed it a moment later when he drew in a deep breath and felt a sharp ache across his ribs, down his back and through his shoulder. It was sharper and more persistent than what he'd experienced before, but he appreciated the clarity that came with it.

He gave a small smile when Jack stepped into his field of vision and sat down on the stool beside him.

“Hey,” Jack said, reaching out to brush Ianto's bangs from his face. He let his hand linger there, near the curve of Ianto's cheek for a long moment afterward.

“Hey,” Ianto said, his voice still rough.

Jack gave him a wincing kind of expression and held out another cup of water with a straw. Ianto sipped it gratefully, until it was nearly empty.

“Thanks,” he said.

Jack nodded and set the cup aside. “How are you feeling?”

Ianto thought about the question for a moment, wanting to be sure of his answer. “Better, I think.”

Jack laughed and shook his head, but the relief in his expression was palpable. “I'm glad. You scared us.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah,” Jack reached out and took Ianto's hand in his, running his thumb across Ianto's knuckles, being careful of the IV line taped just above them. “I had no idea that dinosaur had its own arsenal.”

Ianto quirked a small smile. “That definitely wasn't in the manual.”

Jack shook his head and grinned in return. “You're going to be alright, though.”

“I know,” Ianto agreed, though he wasn't sure how much of it was bravado for Jack's benefit. He certainly didn't feel alright just yet, but hoped he would.

“Good,” Jack said, giving Ianto's hand a quick squeeze before he let go and started to stand up again.

“So, when can I move to somewhere more comfortable, like an actual bed?” Ianto said.

“What, autopsy table chic isn't doing it for you?” Jack said, winking.

Ianto shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

*** 

It was something of an ordeal getting from the medical bay to one of the private patient rooms one floor below the main level, but once Ianto was resting comfortably in one of those beds, propped up by pillows, with a glass of water in easy reach and a magazine to flip through, he was feeling much better.

Jack had forced him to eat a sandwich and drink some juice. He'd only managed a little of the sandwich, but the food did seem to help. He didn't feel as nauseous as he had before, with an empty stomach.

His back and shoulders still ached, but not as badly and he wasn't even dizzy any longer. All things considered he was doing pretty well. Jack said he might be up and about in a few days. Ianto expected to press the issue even sooner than that, but not for another day at least. Maybe two.

He wasn't feeling 100%. He still felt a little off in a way he couldn't quite explain. He didn't think it was anything to be concerned about, but he couldn't be sure. He figured he would ask Owen the next time he came in to check on him, but he didn't know when that would be. Now that he wasn't actively bleeding or writhing in pain, Owen didn't seem quite as interested in him as a patient. It was to be expected, really. What kind of doctor comes to work for Torchwood, anyway? The adrenaline junkie, of course. The one who can't wait for the next exciting case around the bend. General recovery care and recuperation were boring by comparison.

Ianto's back had started to itch a little. It was probably just that the bandages needed to be changed. His back and shoulder muscles twitched a little too, even when he was at rest, but still, it didn't seem like anything serious.

His energy level seemed to ebb and flow unpredictably. He had been feeling restless only a few moments ago, contemplating an attempt at standing up, but now, he could barely keep his eyes open. It was late. He knew that. Maybe he was just tired because he'd ordinarily be asleep at this hour, but he thought he'd surely had enough sleep today already.

He and Jack were alone in the Hub. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago and wouldn't be back for hours longer. Ianto shivered, for some reason, at the thought, suddenly feeling very lonely. He noted with concern that he was sweating again, as a bead of sweat trickled down his hairline and across the line of his jaw, but he was too exhausted to do anything about it. Maybe he just needed rest. Maybe everything would make more sense in the morning.

He closed his eyes and drifted off before he could think any more about it.

*** 

He woke hours later, to darkness and a burning, painful sensation across his back and shoulders. While the earlier pain had been localized to the site of his injuries, this was more widespread, seeming to affect both sides of his back evenly. He struggled to draw in a breath, wanting to scream out for Jack, but even that small movement caused the pain to crescendo exponentially. He clawed at the sheets, flailing for something, anything that might help him. His thoughts were barely coherent. He knocked over his cup of water, and then the small bedside table, as he got tangled in his sheets and fell, hard, against the cold floor. He could feel something dripping down his back now that he'd shifted position and there was an overwhelming metallic smell in the room. He crawled, agonizingly slowly towards where he thought the door was, hoping if he could get out into the hallway, he might be able to attract someone's attention.

He screamed as the pain in his back seemed to get worse and he hoped he was imagining things when he felt as if his very flesh was being torn apart, slowly. His voice was hoarse and shattered from the day's events, but he screamed over and over again, pleading for someone to hear him, as he collapsed onto the floor, unable to move forward. He lay on his stomach, hands slick with blood, nails scraping against the floor.

He was barely holding onto consciousness when Jack found him, a moment later.

*** 

Jack had been up on the main level, researching the alien pteranodon on a computer when he'd heard Ianto groan in pain. Nearly every inch of the Hub was under video surveillance and Jack had kept the live feed of the patient ward minimized on his computer screen throughout the evening, opening it now and again to peer into the darkness and see if Ianto was ok. It wasn't a night vision camera so his view was limited when the lights were off, but with the dim glow from the hallway, he could usually see just enough to tell him if Ianto were still sleeping soundly, to watch the slow rise and fall of his chest, to look for signs of nightmares.

This time, when Jack maximized the window, he was greeted with a flurry of movement and the harsh sound of Ianto gasping between hoarse screams. He jumped to his feet and rushed off to the ward just as Ianto toppled off the bed. He hoped very much that the dark stain he thought he'd glimpsed on Ianto's back just before he'd fallen had merely been a trick of the light.

Jack stormed into the small room and flipped on the light immediately. He found the room smeared with blood, the awful crimson stain trailing from a pool on the bed, down to the too still form of Ianto lying a few feet away, face down. He'd dragged blood down with him, onto the floor and his hands and knees were covered with it.

Jack fought the urge to panic and approached Ianto carefully, afraid of what he would find. He switched on his Bluetooth deftly as he kneeled down beside Ianto and pressed the speed dial for Owen's number. It wasn't quite dawn yet, but this was definitely an emergency.

Jack reached out and took Ianto's wrist in his hands as the line rang. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse beneath his fingers, a little erratic, but strong. He could see Ianto breathing, too, and that made him feel a little better. 

“Yeah?” Owen answered, sounding like he was still half asleep.

“I need you here now, Owen. It's Ianto.” Jack insisted, pulling the broken form of his lover into his lap, hoping to be able to figure out the source of the bleeding.

“What happened?”

“I-I don't know. There's a lot of blood. He's unconscious now, but he was screaming.”

“Damn,” Owen said and Jack could hear him getting out of bed and rummaging around for something to wear. “How much blood? Is he still bleeding?”

Jack shook his head and swallowed hard. “I don't know. It's his whole back. It's just covered in blood. I don't understand it. He was sleeping.”

“Calm down, Jack. You won't be any help to him if you start to panic. Stay with him. I'm on my way. Call me again if anything changes.”

“Ok.”

*** 

Owen made it to the Hub in record time and rushed into the main level, looking around frantically for Jack and Ianto.

Jack stepped out from the stairwell, a moment later, looking paler than Owen had ever seen him. His hands were covered in blood and there were dark red splotches on his shirt and pants as well.

“He's down here,” Jack said, brokenly, and Owen grabbed his medkit and rushed after Jack, taking the stairs as fast as he could.

When he rounded the corner and came into the small, private patient room, it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at. There was blood everywhere. On the pillows, on the sheets, across the floor and most of all, on Ianto, lying there, far too still, in the middle of the room, on his side.

Owen knelt down beside the younger man and took his pulse, then checked his breathing. Neither was particularly steady, but the bleeding seemed to be the bigger priority by far.

He turned Ianto over onto his stomach and glanced over the other man's back, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He couldn't tell much with the blood-stained shirt in the way.

“Help me get his shirt off,” Owen said, gesturing for Jack to kneel down beside him. Jack did as he was told and started unbuttoning Ianto's shirt as Owen propped him up. They pulled the bloodied fabric away carefully, taking care where it had dried, sticking to his skin. 

Owen looked down at Ianto's back uncertainly. He'd expected to find that the two puncture wounds from the alien spines had started bleeding again, but that didn't seem to be the case. Instead, there were two ridged, fleshy protrusions, bursting out from the skin just over Ianto's shoulder blades. He'd never seen anything like it before and didn't know what to make of it.

He glanced over at Jack to confirm that they were both seeing the same thing. Jack met his gaze with a wide-eyed expression of his own.

“What is that?” Jack asked.

Owen shook his head. “I don't know, but it doesn't look good. Let's get him upstairs so I can scan him.”

Jack nodded and leaned forward to pull Ianto into his arms. The younger man groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering, but he didn't wake. Owen had been planning on a stretcher, but this method worked just as well and he certainly wasn't going to begrudge Jack if that's what he wanted to do.

Jack carried Ianto up the flight of stairs and over to the medical bay, staggering a little under the other man's weight in his arms. It wasn't every day he needed to carry a fully-grown man, nearly the same height as him, up a flight of stairs. He set Ianto down carefully on the autopsy table, trying not touch his back any more than was strictly necessary.

Owen was just behind him and he started to flip on switches for the various equipment and pulled some gauze, tape and disinfectant from one of the drawers. 

“Let's clean the area, first, and then worry about what's going on internally,” Owen said.

Jack nodded and reached for one of the disinfectant packets and a sterile sponge. He began the tedious process of cleaning the wounds as Owen moved around him, setting up an IV of fluids and then a blood transfusion, followed by an injection of strong pain relievers. 

As he finished cleaning one side, Owen followed right behind him, patching the still oozing wound with gauze and tape. He pressed the edges of the covering warily, careful not to touch the ridged protrusion. It glistened an almost iridescent, mottled black, amidst the seeping blood and ragged flesh around it. 

He picked up the nearest sensing device, pressed a button to sync it with the screen beside him, and held the device over the patched wound as Jack continued to clean the other side.

Owen frowned at what he saw on the screen. The small ridge was only the beginning of something much more substantial, now fused to Ianto's skeleton. It looked to be growing at an alarming rate. Even as he swept the sensor over it, a thin line of some bone-like structure materialized within the dark space between Ianto's skin and his rib cage and spine. Owen bit his lip at the realization that the little patch of gauze he'd applied wasn't going to help much. In a few hours, if not sooner, whatever this structure was, was going to burst forth through the flesh of Ianto's back, much more thoroughly than it already had.

Jack seemed to come to the same realization at the same time and he paused what he was doing, sponge still held a few inches in the air, over Ianto's right shoulder blade.

“Oh no,” Jack said, swallowing hard.

Owen nodded and took in a deep breath, setting the sensor aside. He slipped off his gloves and sank down onto the nearest stool, bringing his hands up to his face. “What are we going to do?” he said, miserably.

Jack shook his head, a grim expression across his face. “I'm not sure there's anything we can do.” Jack's shoulders slumped and he drew in a deep breath and blew it out again, slowly. 

Owen stood again and began rummaging around in drawers, pulling out an array of vials, tubes and pouches. “At least we can manage the pain and the blood loss until we get this figured out.”

“Right,” Jack said, trying hard to see the situation from the cold, calculating standpoint of a Torchwood leader and not the partner of the man lying there on the table before him, bleeding and suffering. It wasn't an easy task, but he knew it was ultimately in Ianto's best interest. “I'm going back to researching. I'll call Tosh and Gwen and get them in on this too. Let me know if anything changes.”

*** 

Jack had closed his office door when the screaming began again. Not out of callousness so much as practicality. Each heart-wrenching sound broke his heart a little more, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. He had to keep looking for an answer. It had to be here somewhere.

He'd been through dozens of similar cases, and searched through decades of Torchwood fact, rumor and innuendo to no avail. There were very few records of a winged, dinosaur-like creature ever having made it through the Rift before and none of them said anything about spines or their aftereffects. None of them said anything about what to do when a team member began to sprout terrifying, alien wings. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned forward. He knew what other Torchwood leaders would have done, years ago. They would have executed the afflicted person. Maybe they had and had never felt the need to write up a record. Jack couldn't think of an obvious reason not to do just that other than the all too obvious ache in his chest at the idea. He didn't like to let his personal feelings get in the way of Torchwood business, but dammit, this was Ianto and he couldn't do such a thing to him, even if it might ultimately be easier. If anyone had taught him to dismiss the easy answer, it was Ianto.

A few moments later, when Owen knocked hesitantly on his door and pushed it opened slowly, he already knew what the doctor was going to say and what his response would be. Torchwood be damned.

“Jack, he's asking for you. The drugs aren't helping much. He's in a lot of pain and he's scared.”

Jack steepled his hands in front of him and leaned forward. Knowing and doing weren't quite the same thing. Then, he nodded, stood up and followed after Owen.

He could hear Ianto as soon as he opened his office door and the sound only grew louder as he got closer to the medical bay. The other man screamed, a hoarse, screeching kind of sound, until he exhausted himself, and then wavered between groaning, sobbing and a miserable keening.

Jack wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him as he rounded the last turn and saw the medical bay from above. Ianto was lying on his stomach, his head turned to one side, his hands clutching desperately at the edges of the autopsy table beneath him. 

His back was a ruin of ragged flesh, bone and blood. The ridged bumps that had only stuck out an inch early this morning, now stuck out more than a foot and there were further ridges below, a hint of scaffolding and webbing connecting it all. The expanding pair of wings had split the flesh of Ianto's back in two jagged lines, extending from a center point between his shoulder blades.

Owen was doing his best to keep the entire area sterile and clean, but it was almost impossible while the wings continued to push through. There were towels sopping up the blood on all sides, and some spread out on the floor below, dappled with crimson. 

Ianto's face was a mask of pain and terror, sheened with sweat, his hair soaked with it.

Jack tried to ignore the horror of it all as he descended the stairs slowly and took a seat just in front of Ianto's gaze. It took Ianto a long moment to see him, a flicker of recognition in his clouded gaze, and then a much longer moment to control his gasping, sobbing long enough to say anything coherent.

“Jack-” Ianto said, just barely above a whisper. 

Jack reached out and clasped Ianto's hands in his, twining his fingers between Ianto's. The other man's hands were trembling, but he was too weak to do much more than lay them in Jack's reach. He couldn't curl his fingers around Jack's even though he wanted to.

“I'm here, Ianto.” Jack said, his voice breaking, his eyes welling with tears. He wouldn't lose control here, in front of Ianto. That would only make things worse, but it was hard not to cry at the sight of him, in such a state. Even worse, Jack felt helpless to do anything about it.

“J-Jack,” Ianto said, looking desperately towards the other man, “Wh-what's going on?”

Jack pursed his lips and raised Ianto's hands to his lips to give him a small kiss. “You were attacked. Do you remember? There was an alien, like a pteranodon. It attacked you.”

Ianto shook his head, quickly, as if dismissing the words. “Wh-what's happening to me?” Ianto said.

He shivered after the question and squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in terrible pain.

Jack waited for the worst of it to pass and then leaned forward, lips just inches from Ianto's ear as he responded. “Don't think about it.”

Ianto's expression crumpled and he scrabbled to catch hold of Jack's hands again. He tipped his head forward a little, arching his back, trying to curl in on himself. “Am I dying?” he asked.

Jack swallowed hard and shook his head. “No,” he said, feeling more determined than ever. “Absolutely not. You're going to get through this.”

“H-hurts,” Ianto said, clenching his teeth and thrashing in pain, where he lay. The awful keening noise from the back of his throat returned and his gaze seemed to turn inward as he focused again on dealing with the pain rather than the man before him.

Jack bent forward and kissed him on the cheek. “You're the bravest man I know, Ianto Jones. You're going to survive this. I know you will.”

*** 

Hours later, Jack clutched Ianto's hand in his and watched the other man as he slept uneasily, still in pain, but nothing like before. The wings had finally emerged fully a few hours ago and then Owen had begun the slow process of patching up the damage done. It had required a lot of antiseptic, more than a hundred stitches and a lot of tape and gauze, but now, Ianto was resting, the worst of the ordeal over. Owen had gone to nap in one of the rooms below. Gwen and Tosh had gone home for the night.

A little color had finally returned to Ianto's cheeks, but he was still in need of blood and fluids. It was hard to tell what demands on someone's body a fully grown pair of leathery wings might require. 

Jack wasn't looking forward to telling Ianto about them, or rather, explaining them once he clearly saw them and felt them for himself. The younger man had been too exhausted and in too much pain to fully appreciate the gravity of the situation as he suffered through the wings emerging, but it would be impossible to miss them now.

Jack had traced the line of each wing with his fingertips, a little while ago. They were stronger than they looked. Despite their papery appearance, they were thick and sturdy. They shimmered a dark black, with a mottled gray webbing between the skeleton outline of the wings. They curved widely, filling the space of the room behind Ianto's back. Jack wasn't sure exactly how that was going to work, but he imagined they'd be in the way for a long time before Ianto got used to them. It was a very strange reality to be faced with, but considering a few hours ago, he hadn't known if Ianto would survive at all, he'd take what he could get. He hoped Ianto would be as accommodating.

He didn't know how Ianto would survive in the world, now. He didn't know if he could. It would be impossible to walk the city streets, sporting a pair of wings, without attracting unwanted attention. 

Jack would worry about that later. There would be plenty of time to work all of that out in the coming months. For now, he'd focus on Ianto getting better. He'd need some time to recover from his injuries and adjust to his new anatomy. 

*** 

Ianto came awake slowly, unwillingly. He knew, like some kind of sixth sense, that he would wake to something unpleasant and he didn't want to deal with it. Finally, after lying there with his eyes closed for several long moments and breathing slowly in and out, he opened his eyes and surveyed the scene before him.

He was in the medical bay. Had he been ill? A sudden memory of terrible pain made him tremble. Yes, he had been ill. What had happened to him? It had been awful. He remembered that much.

He pushed himself up on one arm, but there was something off about his balance. All of his muscles ached, too, as if he'd run a marathon, or something worse. He rolled over a little, and found there was something beneath his back, in his way. He grimaced at the realization, vaguely annoyed and reached out to brush it away, expecting to find a stray pillow or blanket. Instead, his fingertips brushed something leathery and sharp-edged.

He squirmed where he lay, trying to see behind him, but as he did so, the mystery object moved away from him. His eyelids were heavy and he was out of breath already, from the effort. He was about to give up and go back to sleep when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the monitor beside his bed. There was something dark and curved lurking just behind him, moving very slightly, almost as if it was floating on a breeze.

He felt a prickle of dread on the back of his neck, not sure what to make of this discovery. Where were the others? Had something happened? Was this creature behind him somehow responsible?

Ianto pushed himself slowly into a seated position and started at the rustling sound just behind him. Again, he noticed something off-balance about himself, but he couldn't pinpoint it. He looked down at his chest with some embarrassment as he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. He glanced around, hoping it was nearby, but didn't see it. He caught a glimpse of darkness again, as he turned his head, and felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. Whatever was in here with him was right behind him now. Was it trying to hide from him? Or was it just waiting for him to acknowledge it.

He turned quickly, towards it, bending at his waist. A whole lot of confusing things happened at once. His back flared in pain at the sudden movement. He caught a glimpse of something that looked like wings. He somehow managed to topple the nearby IV stand and it clattered to the floor, the clang of metal on metal ringing out in the Hub. He found himself tipping alarmingly backwards, as if he'd underestimated his own weight. He reached out for something to hold onto as he fell, but only grasped empty air.

He landed hard on his right shoulder, his legs still flailing above him for an awful moment before he somersaulted forward and ended up tangled in a mass of black, skin-like material, laced with tiny bones.

Ianto screamed, a hoarse screeching sound, and flailed about, trying to get the material off of him. He pushed it away, but it kept coming back, as if drawn to him somehow. He found it hard to breathe as he kept screaming, taking great gasping breaths in between, his eyes wide with terror.

Jack found him a moment later and brushed the awful black webbing away and took him in his arms. Ianto leaned against Jack's chest and sobbed for a long time, shaking his head. He didn't understand what was going on, but he didn't like it at all. He was tired, hurting, scared and confused.

When he opened his eyes again, he started at the dark shadow cast from behind him, blocking the overhead fluorescent light. It didn't seem to bother Jack though. Maybe he was the only one who could see it?

“What's going on, Jack?” Ianto said, warily, still feeling shaken.

“It's a long story, Ianto, but first you need to stay calm.”

Ianto frowned. That seemed like an odd request. Why wouldn't he be calm? Was there something he should be panicking about?

Then, Jack did a rather odd thing. For a moment, he looked just behind Ianto, as if he was seeing a figure standing just behind Ianto's shoulder. It was only for a moment, but Jack had definitely looked behind him.

“Do you see it too?” Ianto said quietly, leaning in.

Jack frowned and looked at Ianto warily. “See what?”

“The creature behind me.”

Jack swallowed hard and shook his head. “There's no creature behind you, Ianto.”

Ianto sighed, frustrated, and turned his head quickly. It hurt again, even more than before, and he felt that prickle of dread again, a ghost of a memory, but he dismissed it.

Jack kneeled in front of him and put both of his hands on Ianto's shoulders. “Ianto, listen to me. You were attacked by that alien pteranodon we were chasing. Do you remember that?”

Ianto frowned. That did sound familiar. Was he alright? What had happened? “A little,” he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. His fingers brushed against something again and his eyes widened. Wings. It had felt like wings. But that meant...

“Shhh, Ianto, it's alright.” Jack spoke to him slowly and calmly, looking him directly in the eye, but Ianto barely heard him. Memories were washing over him. Memories of terrible pain and a very good reason he had to lie on his stomach. Spines and scaffolding and horrible, leathery skin, drenched in blood, ripping through his flesh.

“Ianto!” Jack shouted and Ianto froze where he was, seated just a few feet from the autopsy table, on the floor of the medical bay. He took in all the sensations around him. He could feel the cold metal floor beneath his hands and legs. He could feel the autopsy table behind him. He could feel some part of him brush across the legs of the table and unfold behind his back.

Wings. He had wings.

“No!” Ianto said, scrambling to his feet. He tipped backwards again, unsteady. Jack held on to him, held him up, and wouldn't let go.

Ianto shook his head, unwilling, unable to believe such a thing was even possible. 

“It's true,” Jack said, quietly, pressing his forehead to Ianto's and holding him close. “You grew wings and you survived. You grew wings and you're beautiful.”

Ianto's eyes welled with tears and he shook his head, trembling again in Jack's arms. 

*** 

Hours later, Ianto sat perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. His wings were unfolded behind him, stretching out across the length of the sofa and curving to dip behind it as well. He was sipping a glass of juice and chewing a piece of toast at Owen and Jack's insistence, but he wasn't particularly hungry.

They'd draped a blanket over his chest and he held onto it, keeping it up, but he was still a little cold. No one had yet figured out how he was supposed to wear a shirt given the huge obstructions sprouting from his shoulders.

Gwen and Tosh were nearby, going about their business, but they were avoiding his gaze. He didn't really mind. If their roles had been reversed, he was sure he would have felt awkward as well.

*** 

It was several days before he could manage to walk on his own. At first, he'd felt so off-balance and odd that he'd needed someone or something to hold onto just to remain upright. Eventually, though, he made it work.

Fully spread, his wingspan was nearly 12 feet wide. With his wings open all the way, he could hardly stand alone in any room in Torchwood, let alone with other people. At rest, if he tried not to think about them at all, his wings folded to a more manageable 5 foot breadth, but that was still inconvenient.

He found he could fold them in, retracting them to only about a foot off his back, on occasion, but it took considerable effort and he hadn't quite mastered it yet. So far, he'd only done it once or twice by accident, but he was going to keep practicing. It was the only possible way he'd ever be able to leave the Hub again. Maybe, with his wings retracted, and wearing a heavy jacket, he might not attract attention out on the streets.

His back still ached where the wings had sprouted. Owen said that was normal as the scar tissue was reabsorbed, but he hoped it would go away soon. He was tired of popping ibuprofen at regular intervals throughout the day and it didn't make sleeping any easier.

Sleeping had been a very difficult skill to master. He'd finally managed a comfortable position when he'd been too exhausted to think about it any more. Now, more often than not, he had to wait until he was very tired before attempting to lay down. Otherwise, he'd try to toss and turn and not be able to with the bulk of his wings getting in the way.

Jack still shared his bed on occasion and Ianto was grateful for that as well though their attempts at anything more fun than sleeping had been a little trying so far. He knew they'd work it out eventually though and Jack definitely had a thing for his wings. Ianto couldn't help but feel a little gratified by that. If he could draw any good from this experience, he'd take what he could get.

***

Months later, Ianto stood high above the city, in the darkness, gazing at the skyline.

Jack somehow managed to find him there. He always did. Probably the reports of a winged man atop a skyscraper gave him away.

“You're looking somewhat villainous, out here, surveying the city,” Jack said, grinning.

Ianto crossed his arms in front of him and turned a half step away from Jack, letting his wings expand out to their full breadth.

“Very dramatic,” Jack said and Ianto couldn't help but grin in return.

There was a cool breeze rushing past them up on the rooftop. It pushed Ianto's wings back in a magnificent kind of pose and made Jack's jacket flap behind him, similarly.

For a long few moments, they just stood there beside each other, looking out at the lights of the city below. Finally, when Ianto spoke, Jack could tell he'd been thinking of the words for a long time.

“I've always felt different,” Ianto said, wincing a little at the phrasing. It seemed like such a hollow word to describe the depth of what he meant. “On the inside. I guess, I'm not upset to finally have it reflected on the outside as well.”

Jack stepped closer to him and pulled him into a passionate embrace. They pressed their lips together and shared a long, slow, deep kiss. 

“You've always had wings to me, Ianto,” Jack said softly.

Ianto shook his head, laughing softly at the cheesiness of the line, but even so, he felt his eyes well up with tears. It was a little cheesy, sure, but it meant something too. It meant a lot.

“And you to me, Captain Jack,” Ianto answered.

They clutched each other's hands and turned to face the city again.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I just wrote this for myself, but I thought someone else might enjoy it too. Please excuse any errors. I don't plan to write any sequels, but if anyone else wants to explore how Ianto might live with wings, go for it. :)
> 
> I like to pretend Children of Earth never happened and I'm fully in support of Jack, Ianto, Owen, Toshiko and Gwen all working as a team for a long time.


End file.
